Tell Me A Love Story
by TheShoelessOne
Summary: CharlieClaire. Pre-Raised By Another. When Claire has a disturbing dream, she seeks out Charlie in the darkness for comfort. A story is the best way to forget a bad dream. And the story Charlie comes up with sounds awfully familiar...


**Tell Me A Love Story**

"Charlie..."

A mumble. He turned away from the sound. Claire bit her lip, then gently placed her hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Charlie," she whispered again, "are you awake?"

"Well," his voice crackled as he turned to face her, "now I am." He perched himself up on one elbow and looked at her with tired eyes. "Tell me, what could have possibly motivated you to get up out of your warm bed and shuffle all the way across camp to sit on your poor knees and nudge me awake?" Of course he was exaggerating. She slept barely ten feet away. Claire kneaded her hands like fresh dough. Now that he was awake, it sounded like a very stupid reason.

"I..." She looked sadly into his eyes, and her eyebrows tilted upwards, a forerunner of oncoming tears. His attention fully caught, Charlie sat up completely and reached out as if to steady her.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked. Claire calmed a degree. He was always so worried about her. She absently moved a sliver of hair from her eyes.

"This probably sounds stupid but-" she was cut off by a loud "Shh!" from a few bodies over. Claire stared, owl-eyed, at Charlie. He shrugged.

"Blondie and Brother-Dearest sleep a ways off." He leaned forward in confidentiality. "I try to ignore 'em." Claire almost smiled. Almost. Charlie, his attempt at humor fallen horribly flat, cleared his throat nervously. "What was it that probably sounds stupid?" Claire looked to the ground.

"I-I had..." A sigh. "A bad dream." Charlie cocked his head. Claire finally smiled. It was cute.

"What kind of bad?" he asked at last. "A 'monster chasing you and you can't run' kind of bad, or an 'Oh my God, I can't believe they elected Bush' kind of bad?" Claire pulled at the fabric of her shirt.

"An 'I woke up and found one of my friends dead' kind of bad." Her hands shook as she tugged frantically at the shirt's fabric. She wouldn't admit that she had seen Charlie, cold and lifeless, in her dream. The real Charlie in front of her grimaced.

"Oh, those are terrible," he said with pity. He paused, watching Claire's hands tremble slightly. "But... why wake _me_ up?" She almost said, "To make sure that you're alive," but stopped herself in time. She looked around to make sure that no one was poking their heads up to listen, then gave a dry laugh.

"When I was a little girl, my mother would sit with me and tell me a story until I forgot what my bad dream was about." She listened to her own pitiful voice and realized how stupid she sounded. She hung her head sadly. Charlie shifted.

"Well, I..." he started. Claire glanced up. He was smiling as he met her eyes. "I could tell you a story." He backed up a few spaces until his back was leaning against the tree he slept under. He patted the ground next to him. Claire hesitated. He cocked his head again. Cute. "I have rules against taking advantage of pregnant women with penchants for bad dreams." Again, he motioned for her to sit next to him.

She gave in.

Leaning her weary back against the rough bark, she sidled in next to Charlie, watching his face for any change on his face. She saw that he was doing the same.

"Get comfortable, love, or it'll be a long night." In the dim moonlight, she saw his lips part to reveal his teeth in his ridiculous grin. For some reason it helped, and she relaxed when she leaned her body against his. And she didn't even flinch when Charlie slipped his arm over her shoulders.

"Now see, when my brother Liam and I were kids, we were just crazy." He had begun, and already she had begun to relax. "Not normal-crazy. We were straight-up crazy. We were those kids you'd hear about who jumped off the roof after watching Peter Pan thinking we could fly. Now there was this one time," Charlie started to laugh, and he met Claire's eyes again, "that Liam had seen this chap from the States who tried to jump this canyon on his motorbike."

"Oh _no_," Claire said at once. "What did he do to you?" Charlie grinned like a madman.

"'Course Liam got Dad's motorbike from the garage and swore to me that if this evil chap could get over a couple busses, then I could jump over this creek we had near the house..." Charlie laughed at the look of horror on Claire's face. "And I was bloody ten-years-old!"

"Shut-up, over there!" A familiar voice broke through the silence. Charlie sneered in Shannon's general direction, then looked back to Claire.

"Where was I?" he asked. Claire grinned.

"You were bloody ten-years-old."

"Ah, yes, of course," Charlie said fondly. "I was bloody ten-years-old and Liam and I were carting the motorbike to the creek. 'Course we forgot the helmet. He lifted me onto the seat and told me all I had to do was jump the creek and he'd give me his dessert that night after dinner. And because, like I made very clear earlier, I was insane, I tried to jump the creek."

"What happened?" Claire asked intensely. Charlie relished in her attentiveness.

"Before I even got to the creek, I hit this rock, which made the front wheel go all wonky. I got tossed into the creek, and the bike crashed into a conveniently-placed tree." Claire's hands migrated to her mouth. Charlie pointed to his forehead just above his hairline. "Still got a scar from where I knocked myself with a rather jagged rock."

Claire reached up involuntarily. Her fingertips brushed aside his bangs from his forehead and ran her fingers over the raised scar tissue on his scalp. It took only a moment to notice, but Charlie was holding his breath. Claire's hand retreated, but it paused before returning to her lap. She felt a strange tug at her heart as she took her hand from Charlie's skin. Then she noticed Charlie's eyes were locked on hers. Quickly, he looked away to the dark sky.

"Anyway," he said after clearing his throat, "Liam scooped me out of the water, patched me up, and even took the blame when Dad found out about our little adventure. And Liam still gave me his dessert." He dropped his eyes to the ground. "Yeah... Liam was a good big brother back then."

"Was?" Claire asked. Charlie didn't respond for a long moment, then connected gazes again with her.

"Nothing." He attempted to smile. "So, do you feel any better?"

At these words, Claire's dream suddenly came thudding violently back into her mind. The Charlie beside her was suddenly the Charlie from her dream: cold, limp, bloodless, breathless... She closed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the image. All she could manage was a slow shake of her head.

"Hmmm..." came Charlie's voice. He drummed his fingers against Claire's shoulder in thought. It sent a strange tingle through her. "Well, I'm all out. What do you want to hear?"

Claire refused to open her eyes. She didn't want to see Dream Charlie again. In fact, with her eyes closed, she felt as if she could almost get to sleep, compounded with the warmth of Charlie's body.

"Tell me a love story, Charlie," she said after a while, without thinking. She felt the arm around her shoulders go stiff, and he shifted minutely. Even though her eyes were closed, she could feel Charlie's eyes on her. For a long while, she though he wouldn't say anything. Then he cleared his throat again.

"Well... Once there was this... roguishly handsome man."

"Roguishly handsome?" Claire asked. Her eyes were still closed.

"Oh yeah," Charlie ensured her, emboldened. "There was this... this _devilishly_ handsome man who ... who fell in love with this woman." A pause. A sigh. "She was beautiful, smart, anything a devilishly handsome man could want. But see... He couldn't have her."

"Why not?" Claire asked.

"Y'see, she was..." He paused. A _long_ pause. "She was pregnant." Claire's heart shuddered to a stop. But now Charlie couldn't stop. "Every time he saw this woman, he felt like he could talk, couldn't walk, or anything. He felt so... I don't know..._ inadequate_ next to her, he just couldn't... Couldn't _think,_ couldn't _sleep_ without thinking about her. He just knew he could never have her, they were just on different levels..."

Neither of them spoke. Claire finally lifted her eyelids, and she saw that Charlie's eyes were focused intensely on the ground at their feet.

"What was her name?" She asked into the silence. Slowly, Charlie raised his eyes until they were level with hers. She could see that he was barely breathing, and it took him ages to shape the word in his dry mouth. Finally, it crept through his lips in a thin voice.

"Claire."

It was a moment before she felt Charlie's fingers playing in her hair. She closed her eyes again. Her dream had been totally eradicated.

"What happened next, Charlie?" she asked. She could feel Charlie's eyes on her, his arm around her thin shoulders, that same hand gently teasing her locks.

"The... The devilishly handsome man finally got up enough nerves to tell the woman how he felt about her. Admittedly," he added with a sigh, "he didn't find the best way to tell her."

".... And?" Even with her eyes closed, she could tell Charlie was smiling.

"They got married and had thirteen children together." Claire smiled and opened her eyes. She had never seen Charlie's eyes so close before.

"It's a wonderful story, Charlie."

"It's not finished," he admitted. Claire raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I still don't know what the woman told the devilishly handsome man when he pledged his love to her."

Claire's body was moving without her asking it to. She wanted to know the rest of the story. Charlie's fingertips barely brushed over her cheek, and her eyes closed again, involuntarily. Tentatively, Charlie neared, and pressed his lips against her forehead. His beard prickled against her skin pleasantly. Again his lips pressed down, more confidant, on her brow. Claire breathed deeply, and exhaled in a sigh.

"Charlie..." she said softly. He stopped.

"What?"

"I know what the woman said," she told him in the same low voice. The warm feeling in her chest increased, and she knew it was because Charlie was smiling.

"What did she say?" He took her fingers in his hand, inspected them shortly, and pressed her fingertips to his mouth. Claire smiled.

"She said, 'Hurry up and get on with it, you git.'"

Then Charlie laughed. It sent chills through her.

"Hey!" Shannon's shrill voice ripped through the tense air. "Who won't shut up?"

As usual, Charlie ignored her completely.

He placed his hand on the back of Claire's neck, minutely fiddling with her hair playfully, then pulled her the few remaining inches to him. Their lips locked in an explosion of color and light, and it felt as if the whole world beneath them trembled at their joining. Claire leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Shannon stopped her charge of rage when she got close enough to see what had interrupted her sleep. Thoroughly embarrassed, she uttered a low "oh" and turned quickly back to her makeshift bed.

Claire laughed quietly, breaking their contact. Charlie cocked his head again. It was still cute.

"What's funny?" he asked. Claire looked long into his eyes.

"_Thirteen_ babies, Charlie?"

He grinned. Devilishly handsome.

"I tend to overcompensate," he told her. And before she could laugh, he kissed her again.

Neither of them had any more trouble falling asleep that night.

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AN: I appologise to all Bush fans. And Shannon fans. And for any cheesiness that the fic may or may not have included. I was just listening to the Beatles and the idea for this popped into my head. Up 'till 4 AM writing... This might be all for my Lost fic kick, but maybe not. Hope everyone likes! Happy Lost-ing!


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